Depression Kills
by AllYourBaseAreBelongToKyle
Summary: Bebe breaks Kyle's heart, and Stan must comfort his friend. Written from Stan's P.O.V.


I never trusted weather reports, and for good reason, they were never right. Yesterday the reporter had said that today was going to be sunny and clear, with temperatures in the mid 70's. I glanced out by bedroom window and chuckled. Mid 70's and clear my ass. How about mid 30's, barely above freezing, accompanied by the craziest rain storm in the history of South Park?

I sighed and turned my attention to back to my computer screen, trying to think of something I could write to flesh out my history paper. Nothing came to mind, and I glanced at the clock. 9:07 P.M. I had been sitting here at my desk for the past three hours, trying in vain to finish this stupid history essay.

I found myself wishing that Kyle were here, he could have this damn thing done in an instant. Of course Kyle chose tonight of all nights to go out with Bebe.

I leaned back in my chair, remembering how ecstatic Kyle had been when he first began going out with Bebe, back in the beginning of our Sophomore year, almost a year and a half ago. Ever since his first date with her Kyle had become so happy. Granted, Kyle always had been a happy person, but…

DING DONG!

I lost my train of thought at the sound of the doorbell. 'Now who the fuck could that be?" I wondered out loud.

DING DONG!

Dammit, I thought as I got out of my chair and headed downstairs. Normally either Mom or Dad would have answered the doorbell, but they were out of town with Shelly, leaving me in charge of the house for a week. I reached the door, and opened it. I gasped with surprise. Kyle Broflovski, my best friend, stood in the doorway, soaked with water, and shivering from the cold.

"Kyle, what are you doing here?" I asked, "I thought you had a date with…"

"She…she…," Kyle broke into tears.

I had seen this kind of thing happen before many times.

Bebe had left him.

Still, I was shocked. Kyle and Bebe had made such a perfect couple, and Bebe seemed genuinely happy to be in a relationship with Kyle.

I stepped forward and embraced Kyle, knowing that he needed some emotional support right now. The water on his clothing gleefully began soaking mine, but I honestly didn't care.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered.

Tears were streaming down Kyle's cheeks.

"Stan…I…I…Bebe…," Kyle struggled to make out a sentence.

Suddenly it occurred to me that we were both standing out here in the cold.

"Kyle, we should go inside."

He nodded, and I stepped back , allowing him to enter. As he passed I closed the door, preventing the cold air from entering the house. Then I turned my attention back to my best friend, who was making his way to the sofa.

I couldn't help but notice the amount of water that was dripping onto the floor.

"Kyle, you might want to change out of those things."

Kyle, who was still shivering, nodded, and began stripping off his wet clothes.

I rushed for the closet and grabbed a spare blanket, and arrived back in the living room just in time to witness Kyle peel off his final article of clothing. I hurried and wrapped the blanket around Kyle's shoulders, and he lay on the sofa, tears still falling from his eyes.

I gathered up his wet clothes and took them into the basement, where I threw them into the dryer and turned it on full blast.

I arrived back in the living room to find that Kyle had stopped his shivering, but was still crying silently.

I sat on the edge of the sofa and grabbed onto Kyle's hand, squeezing it.

"Do you want to talk about it?' I asked.

"I…I…"

Damn, he was still having trouble making out a sentence, he must really be hurting over this.

'Hey, Kyle…do…do you want some cookies? I've got some in the oven," I asked.

Kyle nodded and I stood up and made my way to the kitchen. Of course I really didn't have cookies in the oven, but there was a box of chocolate chip cookies that I had gotten at the store yesterday on the counter. I tossed the box of cookies into the microwave, and hit the one minute express cook button. I opened the door with one second remaining, so that the microwave wouldn't start beeping like crazy, dumped the cookies in a large bowl, and returned to the living room.

Kyle was still laying on the sofa, but the tears had thankfully stopped. "Here you go," I said as I sat on the sofa and handed Kyle a warm chocolate chip cookie. He accepted it and ate it in silence, as I stroked his curly, red hair, which was still wet from the rain.

'Kyle, how long were you out there?"

"I…I don't know. I just…wandered after…after…," he started crying again.

Damn, he must be an emotional wreck right now.

"It's all right Kyle, I'm here."

Kyle cried harder, before finally stammering, "it…it was…it was…Cartman. Bebe…left…me for…Cartman."

Oh shit, no wonder he's acting like this.

"We were…at…at the pizza place…when she told me…told me she was…le…leaving me for him," Kyle stammered between sobs. "And then Cart…Cartman showed up…and she…she…kissed him. And Cartman…he…he started teasing me about it."

I felt a great deal of anger boil towards Cartman boil up inside me. No doubt he had done everything in his power to make Kyle miserable. And Bebe, when the hell did she start liking the Fatass?

"Kyle," I whispered, "I'm so sorry."

Kyle made no reply. Instead he curled up in a fetal position and closed his green eyes. Within moments he was asleep.

I yawned and glanced at the clock It was 10:03, nearly an hour had passed since Kyle had appeared on my doorstep. I took another look at Kyle, who shaking and mumbling something in his sleep. He was probably having a nightmare about Cartman and Bebe.

I sighed and made my way to my room. I would have liked to stay with Kyle longer, but I needed to get some sleep, and the sofa wasn't big enough for both of us.

For a moment I considered grabbing my sleeping bag, but decided against it. If there's one thing I can't stand it's sleeping on the floor.

"I'll just get up really early tomorrow," I told myself as I climbed into bed and set my alarm for five in the morning.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

"Goddammit!"

Rather than hit the snooze button or turn the alarm off, I grabbed the damn thing and hurled it across the room. I was about to go back to sleep when I suddenly remembered why I had set my alarm so early to begin with.

I leapt out of bed and dashed down the stairs, but stopped when I caught a view of the sofa.

Kyle wasn't there.

"Kyle?" I called.

No response.

"KYLE?" I called again, this time louder.

Still nothing.

Damn, where the hell was he?

"The basement," I said out loud, "he's probably getting his stuff out of the dryer."

I rushed into the basement, but Kyle wasn't there.

OK, where the fuck had he run off too?

I looked inside the dryer, and noticed that his clothing was gone. Apparently he had picked it up before he went off to…well, wherever he went off to.

Stark's Pond.

The answer hit me like a ton of bricks. I was somewhat ashamed at myself for not coming to that conclusion earlier. Stark's Pond was the place that he had always gone to when he needed to think about something.

I ran back upstairs and threw on my brown jacket as I rushed out the door.

It was cold and dark outside, and the ground was soaked from last nights rainstorm, but at least the rain had stopped. I hurried down the road to Stark's Pond, which was only a few minutes from my house.

As I approached I noticed something different about the pond, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was.

Oh well, Kyle was bound to be there, probably behind one of the trees, reflecting on what had occurred the night before. I quickened my pace.

As the pond grew closer I was finally able to see what was different about the pond, there was a new rock sticking up out of the center.

What the fuck, when did that get there? Was it always there and I just didn't notice it?

Oh well, there would be time to think about that later, right now the only thing that mattered was getting to Kyle.

But for some reason, my thoughts would always drift back to that damn rock. Suddenly a gust of wind blew in my face, slowing me down for a moment.

Damn, I hate mountain wind.

But then I realized that the rock was floating towards me.

Apparently it wasn't a rock, because rocks generally don't move.

Was it a duck or something?

Couldn't be, it didn't look right.

Oh well, it hardly mattered, I was almost to the pond now and very soon I would be in the company of my best friend, who would most likely be crying his eyes out.

But then, just as the first rays of the sun appeared on the horizon, my heart stopped.

The mysterious floating object was a human body…wearing a green ushanka and an orange jacket.

I panicked.

"KYLE!" I cried, sprinting the final few yards to the pond.

Without hesitation, I waded into the freezing water and grabbed the arm of my best friend, who was floating face down, and pulled him to the shore.

"Come on Kyle!" I yelled as I turned him onto his back and began performing CPR.

"Dammit Kyle, wake up!"

Nothing, no response, my cries and attempts to revive him were futile.

Kyle Broflovski, my best friend since preschool, was dead.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Kyle's funeral was held a few days after his death. I sat in the front row of the synagogue, trying to piece together the events that had occurred after the initial discovery of Kyle's corpse. I honestly couldn't remember much of what happened. One second I was clutching Kyle, screaming for him to wake up, and the next second I was being carried away by a police officer, while Officer Barbrady gave his usual "ok people, move along, there's nothing to see here," speech. The cop must have taken me home, because the next memory I have is reading Kyle's suicide note, which I discovered lying on the pillow he had used the night before.

_Dear Stan,_

_By the time you find this, I'll be dead. Maybe I made the wrong choice, but I decided to end my own life. I couldn't take the pain any longer. I was so happy with Bebe, and I honestly thought that we were meant to be together._

_I guess I was wrong._

_Stan, I know this will be hard, but please don't do anything that will hurt Bebe. I still love her, this will be hard enough for her as it is._

_I really appreciate everything you did for me during the night, it means a lot to me. Hell, for a moment I even considered not going through with this._

_Your friendship means a lot to me Stan, more than you'll ever know._

_I know you probably hate me right now, and I forgive you. I just hope that, in time, you can forgive me as well._

_Your Super Best Friend,_

_Kyle Broflovski_

I couldn't help but notice that Bebe was attending the funeral as well, and she was crying.

Anger welled up inside me. Goddammit, she leaves Kyle for the Fatass, then pretends to care that Kyle is dead.

"Bebe, you fucking bitch!"

Suddenly the rabbi stopped his speech, and I could feel every eye turn to stare at me.

Shit, I must have said that out loud.

Bebe was staring at me, with a shocked expression on her face.

"Stan…what…"

"YOU HEARD ME!" I cried as I leapt out of my seat, "KYLE IS DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!"

Shit, Kyle wouldn't be happy about this, but at the moment I didn't care. All I cared about right now was making Bebe's life as miserable as possible. Bebe took a step back as I rushed towards her, and she broke out into an all out run as I got closer.

She was fast, but I was faster.

I grabbed her arm and yanked her around, then shoved my fist into her face.

"HOW DO YOU FEEL NOW YOU STUPID BITCH!" I screamed like a madman as she lay on the floor, bleeding from her nose.

I kicked her in the chest, and rushed out of the synagogue.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Damn, I had really fucked up now. Not only had I failed to fulfill Kyle's last request, but I had physically hurt someone as well. I must be going crazy.

No, I'm not going crazy, I am crazy.

I ran down the street, laughing like a maniac, passing Tele's, the Post Office, Toms Rhinoplasty, and…

I stopped.

Uncle Jimbo's gun shop.

Perfect.

I broke the window and climbed inside, not caring that the alarm was beeping loudly.

"Dammit Kyle," I said out loud as I pulled a Colt .45 out of the display case, "I don't know what awaits us after death, but I'm not going to let you face it alone!"

I pointed the gun at my head.

"Kyle," I whispered, hoping that he could hear me, "I'm coming buddy, I'm coming."

I smiled and pulled the trigger.

And everything went black.


End file.
